


Kneel

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-30
Updated: 2011-10-30
Packaged: 2017-10-25 02:16:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/270624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Equius will not kneel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kneel

There are several things that a troll must do to be the most noble, the most STRONG.  
1\. Conduct yourself in a respectable manner.  
You mustn't let yourself get out of hand. There is no forgiveness for being a buffoon.

2\. Always be honorable.  
You honor tradition with all of your bloodpusher. You only partake in the most revered of activities, such as enjoying nude musclebeast art and archery. You do this without regard for what others think of your customs.

3\. Know your place.  
You are nothing if not someone who knows what they are allowed and what they are not.

 

There are times you feel you are not worthy of being a blueblood. You feel you are not up to par, you are a disgrace. You do not follow these rules as tightly as you should.  
You find thrill in people acting out of caste. The entire disgusting idea of a rustblood holding fate in their hands while an indigoblood sits around high on sopor slime, it makes you feel ill. And yet, at the same time, it gives you this sense of awful, atrocious pleasure.

When you first heard that the highblood had snapped, you were relieved.

Good. Finally he is conducting himself in a way befitting his status.

When you confronted him, sitting atop the tall, cylindrical structure wearing things he had stolen, you were unnerved.

Remove your disguise at once. This is utter tomfoolery and I will not have it.

When he started to honk in a fluctuating tone, completely ignoring you, you started to feel a twist in your gut.

This is not okay.

You spotted a figure, high atop a tank, and it had familiar bright red glasses. You assumed the identity.

You were incorrect.

 

"Ah, it's you Pyrope. Have you seen the highblood about?" You paused, thinking for a moment. "Pardon, smelled."

The voice that responded did not sound anything like the tealblooded girl's voice. It was raspy, and it continued to change volume in between pauses.

"Heh heh. CHECK IT THE MOTHERFUCK OUT. It's the peasantblood. HEH HEH. Fuckin' heh."

Peasantblood? He has got to be fiddlesticking kidding.

"Peasantblood? Is that a joke?"  
You are a blueblood. Not a lowly peasant.

"If your blood. IS A RUNNING MOTHERFUCKING GAG. Soon it will be running. THROUGH MY MOTHERFUCKING FINGERS."

His language was utterly atrocious.

"Your profanity is sickening. You'll stop." You wondered, subconsciously, if he would comply. When he used to comply, do what you say, it was like a rush of these sick, pleased emotions. You, a blueblood, ordering around an indigoblood. It was so lewd, so... exhilerating.

"You'll KNEEL."

At that point, you began to understand. You are not sure why it took you so long, because the highblood truly was not the master of disguise. But you digress.

"You are not Pyrope. You are the highblood, I should have known. Remove your counterfeit eyewear at once." You made your tone as STRONG and resolute as possible, but your resolve faded.  
"Uh. If you please, sir."

"I'LL SHOW YOU WHAT I MOTHERFUCKING GOT. If you show me what's motherfucking yours." The indigoblood's voice practically shook the room, and it echoed ferociously. He was truly a force to be reckoned with when he wasn't spaced out on slime. But the last part was drowned out by the continuing echo of his shout.

"What?"

"It was. A MOTHERFUCKING. Joke. HONK."

At this point, you were starting to become almost angry. You have always told the highblood to conduct himself in a proper manner, and yet, now that he was, it was not alright with you. In fact, it was annoying you. However, you tried to conduct yourself in a respectable manner, despite the sweat beading on your temple and your shoulders.

"We really should talk."

"You really should kneel."

The highblood's voice kept falling so low, it was impossible to understand what he was trying to communicate.

"What was that? The volume of your voice keeps fluctuating.."

"I SAID. Kneel motherfucker."

Again, it was lost on your ears. You simply stared at him, sneering in contempt. This was getting out of hand. The highblood was following rule number 3, but you were not okay with it.  
When he spoke next, it was a deafening yell.

"I TOLD YOU TO MOTHERFUCKING KNEEL MOTHERFUCKER!"

You don't know exactly where the highblood had gotten one of your bows, nor do you know how he wielded it so perfectly whereas you could not even touch it. The next thing you clearly remember was an arrow piercing your leg, nearly causing you to crumple. You refused to give him the satisfaction of falling onto your knee.

This enraged you further.

"Honk. HONK Honk." The subjugglater sounded out his steps, each of them punctuated with a honk. When he came over to you, you looked up at him with the most furious glare you could muster.

You knew what he was going to do. As he gave you the most sickeningly demented grin, bending the bow to snapping point, you felt white hot fury bubbling up in your blue veins.

The highblood started to put the string around your neck, but you rejected this reality in a swift movement. You could visibly see the surprise in the red-tinted eyes as you snatched the bow STRONGLY, and as with all your bows, it splintered under your grip.

 

You let out an angry growl, shoving the highblood down onto his back. You looked down at him from behind your cracked shades, feeling the blue blood dripping down your leggings and staining the fabric.

You didn't give a fiddlestick.

Your rules of nobility shattered, just like the bow, under your will. This was not how this was supposed to go. You were STRONGER than the highblood, you did not need to just sit back and take this.

You brought the sharp, splintered end of the bow down onto the highblood's face, that ridiculous, excrement-eating grin that made you want to lose it.  
You engage murder mode.

The indigo blood is everywhere, and its so purple, so exquisitely purple, and right now you just don't care. You are above this troll.  
He is higher in caste, but you are higher in STRENGTH.

 

Your name is Equius Zahhak, and you will not kneel.


End file.
